“OK, listen, Herschel. Three things. First off, Tut-notinkommen is right–you don’t start a paintin’ job 30 minutes before sundown. That’s just stupid. Ya got no good light. Secondly, and here I agree with Moses-mygoatbitme—that blood red color is just gonna clash terrible with the red brick on yer house. Are you doin’ all the trim-work in that color? Thirdly, what the heck are you using there for an applicator? Criminee–that looks like a hyssop plant! Are you out of yer mind, Hersch? Listen, I got a whole tub full of rollers. I’ll bring ‘em by in the morning.”
“What? What’s that you say? What do you mean—if I am even around in the morning? Where am I gonna be? Geez. Sometimes, Hersch, I don’t know what the heck yer talkin’ ‘bout. And, it smells like the yer ol’ lady is burnin’ yer supper somethin’ awful!”
Indeed, Herschel’s unsuspecting neighbors have no idea what is in store for them on this impending night of horrors. The enigmatic nocturnal event that we call the Passover is shrouded in deep darkness, indiscernible to the distant observer; an eerie occurrence more alluded to in Holy Writ than really described, but an event which finally pushes Pharaoh over the edge and leads to his relenting and releasing of the Hebraic slaves that he has so cherished, so that they may, reputedly, venture off leash into the wilderness to worship their God.
The dimly lit Passover event, shrouded in mystery, reminds one of the equally cryptic tone of our Lord’s Passover meal—his last supper, his travail in Gethsemane, and his midnight trial.
©2020 Joel Picard